RonniePowellProductions.com
that we all face. I have yet to complete the journey and never will, for a
horizon is an illusion that cannot be conquered and truly I am glad for
no longer would I dream.
RonniePowellProductions.com encourages the visitor before a purchase to
closely view each item in the following pages and to ask questions. The
books found on this site are created by me, as are the wood carvings and oil
paintings. They represent a lifetime of appreciation for the land, its people
and my way of communicating with others through the written word, the
creating of images in wood and on canvas. Each book, wood carving and
painting is a part of me to share with you. Inspired by the many natural
wonders of the Ozarks, its legends, myths and ancient secrets found in the
bluffs and deep canyons along the meandering Niangua River has stirred in
me a persistent wanderlust.
Not many people have witnessed buzzards drying their magnificent
wings on a misty morning in a ritual as old as time. They perch on barren
limbs of an old snag, wings outstretched soon to take flight high over the
Valley of the Moon and beyond. Not many people have visited a moonshine
cave where relics of that era lay beneath the dust to reveal a Lucky Seven
revolver. It is doubtful if many people have come face to face with a
huge blacksnake while climbing a bluff, too late to retreat as it strikes.
Oil painting of a Red Tail Hawk
Stories and images come together after many years of a quest to learn
and understand a land that once rivaled the Rocky Mountains. Narrow
forgotten trails that would not in some instances give up their secrets, but
lead me beyond the Ozarks to a Mayan Pyramid of the Sun where I too saw
the sun glint off Spanish armor.
Born of hearty Irish parents on October 21, 1935, I began my life at
seven months on this planet. I shared my birth with a twin brother in a
homestead house located on the north face of a high brushy ridge. Weighing
little more than two pounds each, my brother and I were not expected to
survive the night and were wrapped in flannel and put in a woman’s shoe
box next to a wood burning stove and if not for the kindness of a neighbor
woman who gave us life sustaining mother’s milk we would have surely
perished.
I was born and reared, on the south bank of the Dousinberry Creek in a
unique locale set against the Missouri Ozarks, a strange and beautiful land.
My life began surrounded by the hardships, fascinations, greed and tragedies
of the 1940’s. Most of the families in the area had yet to join mainstream
America and it was a time of waning fundamental moral values,
superstitions and myths.
The old house sat nestled on the north face of Brushy Ridge, where it
had stood for nearly a hundred years and the birthplace of my father. A 120
acre farm lay around the buildings, much of it along the Dousinberry creek.
A vine covered privy stood a respective distance from the house and
was a haven for red wasps, lizards and an occasional snake. A short distance
from the dwelling stood a tool shed, a granary, chicken house and stately log
barn. In the woods a little south a hog shed sat in the center of a split rail
fence. An orchard and large garden was located above a spring and hand dug
well.
nine while bringing in the cows early one morning. On a hill above the creek
walking across a newly plowed field I spotted what appeared to be a large
stone knife and indeed it was as Father informed me later and said it had
once belonged to Prehistory Indians.
For me curiosity has been a constant companion and led me ever
onward or back to a horizon beyond the realm of many people. I have stood
where few men of my kind have stood, looking down at the remnants of
Prehistory civilizations.
The love of land and all its creatures inspired me to paint to sculpture from wood, images from my journey and years later to write.
I began my adult years by running away from home to Texas where for
a time I worked as a hired hand on a farm and helped in driving cattle and
cultivating maze
or fate met a beautiful dark haired, dark eyed young woman who became my
wife and in the ensuing years, two daughters and a son blessed our lives.
During those years while helping to make a living for the family, I kept a
wistful eye on that blue line that lay beyond my reach.
Many years later I was offered early retirement from the Missouri
Department of Conservation. I did not hesitate to take advantage of the
opportunity and once again set out on my journey to that distant horizon.
I began the first year wood carving selling a few here and there until I
had more orders than I could fill and at the present my carvings are scattered
around the world. Gradually my wood carving has evolved into creating
historical sailing vessels with a personal flair, an endeavor that is dear to my
heart. I began seriously writing and have recently published three books I
began painting again on canvas many aspects of my interests, from Ozark
landscapes to seascapes and Prehistory cave dwellers of the Niangua River. I
began in earnest visiting Prehistory cave and village sites along the river and
found to my amazement knowledge to be found in those ancient places
without destroying precious remnants of the past.
I chose to be a re-enactor of the fur trading era and was involved in a
small skirmish of the Civil War. I played the part of a Union Captain in a
delightful short movie titled, Arkansas Yankees, produced and directed by
Roger Herman. Retirement was and still remains a wonderful experience as I
make my way toward the ever illusive distant horizon.
You may share my stories, fiction and nonfiction in the following
pages, in the books I have written and will continue to write, or the wood
sculptors of Ozark figures or historic sailing ships and view my creations in
oil on canvas. Thank you.
Most sincerely,
